Love is Blind
by Vahkhiin
Summary: Love is blind, even to them. Cal/Gilian.


**_A/N: _**_This story doesn't really take place in any specific episode. It's kind of a stand-alone type of thing. Just one of those lazy silent moments between Cal and Gillian. enjoy._**  
**

There are a million things that run through her eyes as she stares at him from where she sits. She tries to shelter them; tries to block them so he wouldn't see. But she knows the moment he sees it because he smiles and he lifts his glass as if to toast her. He blinks slowly, smiling as he keeps his eyes fixed upon hers. It's always like this; silence filling the air between them.

It's as if words do not matter to them. That all they need are glances and gestures. They don't need sentences, or essays of hopeful words. They don't need emotions, or sounds or anything. They need glances and smiles. They need comfort from each other.

And when she looks at him she feels it, she tastes it and she believes it. Because when she stares at him she becomes a better woman; she feels happier, contented and complete. She feels as if she is on the top of the world soaring with the highest clouds. Her heart beats a little slower and her soul feels entirely light and unburdened.

She feels happy.

She looks at that smile on his lips again and she smiles in return. She twirls the Whiskey in her cup as she stares at him. They're always doing this, always sitting together in the office in the later hours of the evening. The cases of the day have long been filed and reported. The office is completely empty and it's just them, the bottle of Whiskey and the radio in the background.

"Gillian," he says, breaking the lazy silence between them.

She tilts her head a little and smiles as she replies, "Cal..."

"Do you think..."his tone drifts a little into empty silence as he twirls the Whiskey in his cup.

She patiently waits in silence as he gathers his thoughts.

"Do you think that I'm the wrong type of man?" he asks, sincerely and seriously at the same time.

The question takes her by surprise because it wasn't exactly what she was expecting. And she wonders what to say; what to respond to his question. She sits up a little on her chair, and looks away for a brief moment before settling her eyes on his again.

"I was just wondering, luv," he says with a shrug.

"I think you're the perfect sort of man," she says with a smile. She doesn't take her eyes away from his as she adds, "Better than Alec."

He nods a little and looks to the Whiskey in his cup. He looks a little nervous and for the life of her she doesn't understand why. He looks embarrassed yet shy as if he was three quarters wanting that answer and one quarter not.

She watches as he takes in a deep breath before turning his eyes to hers again. "Do you really think that, luv?" he asks, his gaze is strangely unguarded and hopeful.

She looks at him for a moment before she outstretches a hand to touch his arm. "I really think that," she says with a smile.

And for a moment he looks so young, so boyish as he stares at her with that undyingly happy grin. He looks as if he's soaring in the clouds; as every wish of his had come true in a single moment and second of his life.

He stares at her for a while with a lingering smile on his lips. He glances briefly as he places the cup of Whiskey on the table and then he gently lays it above her hand. Her hand is so soft beneath his as he holds it.

"Thank you," he says with a warm smile.

She shakes her head and says, "You don't have to thank me, it's the truth."

He chuckles and murmurs, "Happiness or truth, never both."

"Trust you to be both," she says with a smirk.

"It's not my fault," he adds cheekily, "I don't make the rules."

She leans a little back against her chair and relishes the feeling of his hand holding hers. Her hand is outstretched as his alike and somewhere in the middle of the desk their hands sit holding gently and tightly together. It is as if she's holding on to the world and she doesn't know why but she doesn't really want to let go. And little does she know that he does not want to let go either.

Friendship is what makes them.

And love is what separates them.

Because love is blind.

_end. _


End file.
